Quiet Move
by Lola Ravenhill
Summary: When Sirius escapes from Azkaban in 1986 to take Harry from the Dursleys, it's really only the beginning of everything.  Massively AU, and a Remus Sirius tale as well.  A story from the Raising Harry ficathon days.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Quiet Move  
>Author: Lola Ravenhill<br>Summary: When Sirius escapes from Azkaban in 1986 to take Harry from the Dursleys, it's really only the beginning of everything.  
>Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. Property of JKR.<br>Rating: Rated PG-13 for language, just to be on the safe side (2012 update: for now. While I'm not planning anything graphic, I'm not ruling anything out. If anything changes, it'll be listed at the top of the chapter).  
>Spoiler notes: Anything up through OotP is fair game as it relates to the backgrounds of the main characters. Story started before HBP, so nothing from there. (2012 update: while this story is decidedly AU, and the above statement is still valid at this point in time, I'll most likely end up pulling information from all seven books to create this universe.)<br>Author's notes 2005: This story is turning out to be far more epic than I had anticipated when I started writing it, and so you have the first part in your hands now. Stay tuned to my livejournal for more to come. :)  
>Author's notes 2012: The best laid plans, huh? So much for getting this finished in a timely manner…anyway. This story's an old one. I'm talking summer of 2005 here, if my memory isn't failing me (have I really been writing HP fic for that long? Damn…). I rediscovered it the other day though in all of its unfinished glory, and forgotten how much I'd loved the story. Now, I'm hoping to pick up where I left off and finally finish it, seven years later.<p>

It was originally written for the 2005 Raising Harry ficathon, so there are a couple of things here that are standard to stories like that (based off of the original and epic 'Raising Harry' story): Sirius and Remus are bringing Harry up from a younger age than what's seen in the books, and that they're in a relationship. Those two elements are definitely present, so if that's not your thing you may want to stop reading here.

There's currently about eight chapters in existence, so it's not totally incomplete, but there's a lot to go. I'm looking to finish this, however, which is where your input as readers comes in. I have ideas for where I want to take this, and it's already planned out exactly how this is going to end, but there's a lot of middle that's just a giant, gaping hole. So if there's anything you want to see, and elements worked in there, and anywhere you think I'm making a wrong turn, please let me know. Your thoughts help me make this story better, and I can't wait to see where this is going. Thanks for reading – I hope you enjoy it!

Lola

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><p>Quiet Move<p>

by Lola Ravenhill

Chapter One

**_Quiet Move: a move that neither checks nor captures and which does not contain any direct threats…This apparently gives Black the greatest freedom of action._**

**-An Illustrated Dictionary of Chess**

**Edward R. Brace**

It was strangely appropriate that the day Voldemort was defeated for the final time was a bright, clear, and powerfully sunny day. Unfortunately for Harry Potter, he couldn't enjoy a lick of it, what with his being clapped up in this interrogation room somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic.

Granted, he had to admit that showing up in the middle of a brutal battle like an avenging angel in jeans and a t-shirt with a blazing sword in his hand was a bit suspicious, especially since they didn't know who he was. The shaggy hair, deep tan from spending years under the hot desert sun, and sunglasses had gone a long way to disguising his identity. After a very long and very hard battle culminating in a one on one duel with Voldemort himself, Harry had fulfilled the prophecy he had been living under for all of those years, and could finally let out a huge and well-earned sigh of relief.

So of course it came as a bit of a surprise that as soon as everyone could catch their breath again he was hauled off by some very suspicious people to be asked a few questions.

There was a faint scrabbling coming from his jacket pocket, and Harry prodded at it until things were quiet again. "What a trip," he sighed. He never had imagined that he would end up here, living the life he did with the people he did, and doing the things he had done. But when one of your childhood dreams comes true, when a man on an amazing flying motorbike comes to take you away from the most unloving guardians ever, you go with it and hang on for the ride.

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><p>After more than four years stuck in that hell hole of a prison, the taste and feel of sand in his mouth was exquisite. Sirius Black raised himself up on weak arms, spat the sand out of his mouth, and got to his feet. If he could make it into the forest by sunrise, he could sleep for the day as Padfoot without being seen.<p>

It was a dream unlike any other he'd ever had that had pulled Sirius out of his Dementor-induced stupor. James had appeared to him, telling him that there was no way Harry was happy with those sorry excuses for muggles known as the Dursleys. He'd said to forget about the rat-faced little traitor Peter for the moment, and make sure Harry grew up properly. Harry was going to have a lot to do ahead of him, and there was no one better out there to take care of him than Sirius. As soon as he woke up he began plotting, and not even a week later a rather emaciated Padfoot was slipping through the bars and sneaking past the Dementors.

The North Sea was freezing cold, but sheer bloody determination kept him warm and moving forward. As he swam he plotted what he was going to have to do to get Harry. The first step was going to arguably be the hardest—to fake his death. There was a spell that existed to form a simulacrum; they had researched it during their Hogwarts years as a way to fool McGonagall if she ever did a bed check on nights when they knew they weren't going to be there. It would have been extremely handy on full moon nights, when they were out with…no, it wouldn't do to go there right now. It was a hard spell, requiring elements of earth, air, fire, water, and a substantial bit of the person being simulated, but Sirius had time and plenty of hair to spare.

The second step to be completed was to get his motorbike back, if he could. From what he remembered Hagrid had last had the bike, so he would start there. Another benefit of having his bike back is that his original wand was stashed in a secret compartment on there. When he'd left Hogwarts and joined the Order he'd gotten a second wand and kept the old one as a spare. The newer one had worked better, but even the old one would be his wand.

Then he'd go and get Harry.

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><p>The black dog watched contentedly from the cover of the forest as the Aurors and other prison officials discovered the body of the escaped and insane prisoner lying prone on the beach. Much to his relief no diagnostic spells were cast, it was just accepted that Sirius Black had drowned during his ill-fated escape from Azkaban. Oh well. Just one more criminal gone from the world they'd probably thought. The dog smiled (as much as a dog can, really) and took off for Hogwarts.<p>

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><p>Somewhere between the coast and Hogwarts Sirius had managed to procure some jeans and a leather jacket, providing quite a good disguise. No one would have expected the now supposedly insane prisoner to clean up so fast and so well, which worked to his advantage. However it was Padfoot that was lurking around the Forbidden Forest, waiting until the time when Hagrid would be off the grounds and he could go find his beloved bike.<p>

It had taken a week, but one Hogsmeade Saturday when Hagrid had left the grounds with Professor McGonagall to get a drink at The Three Broomsticks was the perfect chance to make his move. Sirius slunk out of the forest, staying low to the ground and avoiding any few straggling students. Hmm, it wouldn't do to break inside right away, until he was sure that Hagrid wasn't coming back anytime soon. He crept around the back of the hut, nose close to the ground and eyes open.

There was quite a bit of clutter outside the building, from old gardening tools and stacks of firewood, and nothing that bore any resemblance to a motorbike. Padfoot whuffed and walked around to the front of the building. Maybe inside would provide better results. He climbed up the stairs and pushed against the door. A loud bark and the sound of scrabbling paws came from in there, sending Padfoot racing back down the stairs and behind the hut.

Okay, maybe the inside wasn't such a good idea. Padfoot lay down for a moment, head resting on his paws. He hadn't thought what he would do if Hagrid didn't have the bike. The bike was the key to making everything else go easier. Without it…well, he could still go and get Harry, but they wouldn't have the easy escape route they did with the bike. Sirius wouldn't have his wand either. Sure, he could steal one, but it wouldn't work as well, and if he was going to be protecting his godson, he wanted to be as strong as possible.

A passing breeze carried a very distinct and almost out of place scent past his nose. That metallic sweetness was usually associated with motor oil… Padfoot hauled himself to his feet and, nose going in full gear, began sniffing around the base of the cluttered piles. The smell kept getting stronger and stronger until he bumped up against what looked like a waterproofed piece of leather. With a quick glance around Padfoot changed back into Sirius. He crouched down on the ground and untangled the long leather sheet from around one corner. Beneath it was something black, round, and slightly springy—the front wheel of the Shadow. Sirius grinned widely, exhaling in relief.

He looked up at the rest of the bike, covered under the sheet and a myriad of other debris. This was going to be a delicate matter. He basically had to extricate the bike without disturbing the rest of the mess, and all while giving the illusion that the bike was still under there. Oh yes, and it had to be done without magic too. Magic would leave a trace, and he hadn't worked so hard to fake his death to be caught by a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_.

"Okay, if I move this….then put this….wait…all right, this here….oooh, shit, no, not that! Stupid piece of crap…finally, there we go." The bike was in his hands, and the debris looked like it had hardly moved. A couple of days of weather and Hagrid would never know the difference. Sirius just hoped he had that time.

With another look around to make sure he wouldn't be seen, Sirius wheeled the bike into the Forbidden Forest. All that was left behind him was the rustling of the trees.

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><p>An: anyone out there familiar with FictionAlley's grammar requirements and is willing to be a beta? While my grammar is quite good (good enough to get me my Master's degree in Creative Writing) we seem to have different beliefs as to what constitutes literary grammar. I'll need to get this story to mesh with their code before posting it on their site, so if anyone's willing to help out, please shoot me a PM! Thank you again for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Don't get used to this quick update schedule, lol...I want to get some chapters written before I get on any sort of a posting schedule. Thanks to all the reviewers and readers who put this story on alert! As always, thoughts and commentary are welcome.

Sincerely, Lola.

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

Finally, finally, finally the bike was ready to fly, his old wand was working better than he could have imagined, and it was time to go and get Harry. It was the middle of a January night, bitterly cold, and no stars visible in the sky this close to civilization. Sirius was parked in an alleyway nearby, a two minute walk from the Dursleys' home. He looked through the small satchel he carried with him, making sure all of the supplies were there: a charmed cloak for Harry to keep him warm while they flew, some food, water, and a map. With the exception of the food, he was amazed the supplies had kept so well stashed inside the Shadow all those years. Sirius had an idea of where they were going to go as soon as Harry was out of the house, and who they were going to see. He just wasn't sure if that person wanted to see him. However, there was no other choice. Even if Sirius ended up back in jail, he knew Harry would be taken care of.

Sirius took a moment to compose himself, then changed into Padfoot and took off down the street. He ran as fast as he could without raising suspicion, only stopping until he was hidden in the bushes beneath the Dursleys' front window. If only he could use magic, it would make this mission that much easier. He changed back and peeked through the leaves to see if the street was clear. The lights were all out in the windows nearby, and no cars could be heard anywhere. 'Now or never,' he thought, and crawled out of the bushes.

He slunk along the ground on his stomach until he came to the front steps, at which point he scaled them quickly and sat down again. Someone sitting down could be rationalized away as part of the bush. Sirius still had to be extremely careful though. Someone working at a door with a muggle lock-pick could not be as easily rationalized. Peter of all people had taught the Marauders to use the lock picks, and looking back Sirius wondered how he could have missed the signs. But there would be time to dwell on Peter later.

With a low click the door opened, and Sirius grinned. He was afraid he was a bit rusty, and while he may not have been able to pick a lock as fast as he did in his teenage years, he was still able to get the door open. Once inside, Sirius discovered that the Dursleys lived in a very boring house. A peek into the living room and up the stairs showed a multitude of pictures of their over-inflated son, but nothing at all of Harry. He wasn't at all surprised.

Sirius sighed and walked towards the kitchen, taking care not to make any noise. The kitchen was spotless, with nothing out of place. It was an uncomfortable, sterile place. He couldn't imagine that Harry was at all at home there. However, if Harry said that he wanted to stay with the Dursleys, then he was going to let him. All he wanted was his godson to be happy. He just didn't think though that the key to Harry's happiness was in Little Whinging.

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, intent on going upstairs to find the lad's bedroom. The tiny figure standing in the hall made him stop short. There was no doubt at all it was Harry. That messy hair was unmistakable. Directly behind the boy was an open cupboard door; and Sirius knew that it hadn't been opened before. "Who are you?" Harry asked quietly.

Sirius knelt down to Harry's level, staying a safe distance away. "My name is Sirius," he said slowly, trying not to startle Harry. "Do you remember me?"

Harry shook his head. "Should I?"

Sirius couldn't help but let out a little laugh. "No, not really. It's been many years since we've seen each other; you were only a little baby the last time. I'm your godfather."

The little boy's brow wrinkled. "Godfa—what's that?"

Oh, God, Sirius didn't want to have to explain this, ever, it would lead to far too many things to talk about. "A godfather is someone your parents picked when you were born to look after you if they can't." To his amazement, Harry crept closer.

"You knew my parents? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said they died in a car wreck. Can you tell me about them?"

It was the most Sirius had heard come out of Harry's mouth, and the light in his eyes once his parents were mentioned was amazing. "Yeah, I knew them, and yeah, if you want, I can tell you more about them. But I have something to ask you first. I'd like to take care of you, like your parents wanted me to. I want you to come live with me, but only if you want to."

"Can I?" he practically yelped. "I promise, I'll be really good, you won't even know I'm there."

The pleading broke Sirius's heart. He didn't want to cry, but it was getting dangerously close. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, and dashed back to the cupboard. "I just got to get my stuff."

Sirius followed him and peeked in. It was a tiny little space, with the small cot taking up the majority of the room in there. "Is this where you sleep?"

"Yeah. Dudley's got the second bedroom for all his toys." Sirius's eye twitched. No, no magic tonight, even though the Dursleys deserved something truly nasty to happen to them. He watched as Harry stuffed a small blanket, a worn out book, and an old jumper into a backpack that was being held together by more tape than canvas. Even faster, Harry pulled on an old pair of socks and his trainers and topped it all off with a jacket that practically drowned the boy. "Okay, I'm ready!"

Sirius frowned. "Don't you want to put your day clothes on?"

Harry slowly shook his head. "They're Dudley's old things. These won't fall down better."

"Okay." Sirius pulled the cloak out of his own bag, and swung the cloak around Harry's shoulders, bundling him tight in it. "This should keep you even warmer." Sirius was amazed with the trust Harry was looking at him with. It was unlike anything he'd ever known, and at that moment swore to do whatever it took to keep Harry safe. "Can I pick you up? We'll be able to move faster that way."

Harry nodded, and so Sirius bent down and swept him into his arms. With a nudge of his elbow he closed the cupboard and they walked to the front door. "Now Harry, you need to keep as quiet as possible. We don't want anyone to see us, all right?"

"Okay."

Sirius made sure the front door was locked from the inside and pulled it quietly closed as they stepped outside. He pulled the hood of the cloak over Harry's head, and began to make his way back to the bike. Sirius didn't breathe as he walked, constantly checking the windows and street to make sure no one was watching them. At one point a car drove by, making Sirius press his back against a tree and clutch Harry even closer. Finally though, they reached the alley with the bike and Sirius could breathe just a bit easier.

He removed the cloak from Harry's head. "You doing all right, lad?"

"Yep." Harry looked around and spotted the bike. "Is that yours?"

"Yeah, it is. We're going to go for a little ride on it."

Harry wrinkled his brow, deep in thought for a moment, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "Does—does it fly?"

Sirius couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, it does."

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><p>The door to the interrogation room opened, startling Harry out of his memory. A tall, bald, black man walked in, with a shorter woman following after him. To Harry's surprise the woman had hair in a most unusual shade of pink. There was something about her face that struck him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.<p>

"So, our mystery hero of the day," the man said, sitting down opposite from Harry, his wand out on the table between them. Harry bit the inside of his cheek miserably. He wanted his wand back; they'd confiscated it when they'd brought him in. At least they didn't get their hands on the sword—the invisible weight was comfortably snug against his back.

"I'm no hero, sir," he replied. "I just did what had to be done."

"Well you did something pretty impressive that wizards have been trying to do for nearly thirty years now. We just want to know how you did it."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes behind the sunglasses. If they only knew of the years of study and traveling and hard work they had put in to get Harry ready for the inevitable final battle. It'd take a solid week to fill them in on every last detail. "If I knew, sir, I'd let you know also."

The man leaned back in his seat, taking on a relaxed pose. "Please, the 'sir' makes me feel even older than I already do right now. I'm Auror Shacklebolt, this is Auror Tonks," he waved a hand towards his pink-coiffed companion. "Do you have a name we could call you?"

Yes, he had a name, one he was quite proud of, really, but it was a name that would bring unwanted fame on his head. Fame wasn't really his thing. Maybe he could teach, that seemed like it would be an interesting profession. "No, no name. Sorry."

"You don't have a name?" Auror Tonks asked from somewhere to his side, and he turned his head to look at her.

"I'm nobody, as Odysseus said to the Cyclops," he replied. Merlin bless Remus for a good education in things aside from spells and charms.

"I'm impressed, you know your classics," Shacklebolt said. "So can we assume that you've been on an interesting journey before arriving here?"

A slow, predatory grin spread across Harry's face. "You have no idea."

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><p>By the time the sun had begun to peek over the edge of the horizon Sirius and Harry had made it to the south of France. Sirius guided the bike down into a small abandoned bit of forest as Harry dozed against his chest. He'd tried to keep the young boy awake for as long as possible so that they could sleep during the daytime, but he'd eventually dropped off, the small helmeted head bobbing forward every so often.<p>

"Just a little bit of sleep, then we can be off again," Sirius murmured, sitting down with his back to a tree and the still slumbering Harry in his lap. He pulled the magical map out of his bag, an old relic left in the bike. It was one of those maps that could show you the layout of many major cities with just a tap of the wand. "Show me Rome, Italy," he said, jabbing his wand at the paper. There was a blur on the page as the map focused in on the major roads and monuments of Rome.

"Okay, let's see, the address is 98, via della Cisterna…" It had taken some sneaky research to find where Remus was currently residing, but a few glamour spells and lies had made an unsuspecting relative of the werewolf give up his current location. Remus was the only person on Earth who would give him a fighting chance though, and that wasn't saying much. Remus likely felt the most betrayed by Sirius also. It was because of him that he had lost everything, friends, trust, love…

It seemed almost juvenile to say that Remus was his boyfriend; they hadn't even used that term in their Hogwarts years. But he was undoubtedly Sirius's true love, even though at the end things had gotten so bad love and trust was a rare sight in their company. Sirius wasn't so naïve to believe that they would take up from where they left off in the good times, but his gut feeling was telling him that Remus would be able to put some things aside in order to help Harry.

The few hours of sleep Sirius got were restless and filled with dreams of what was lost. He awoke to find the sun high in the sky and Harry poking at his chest. "Sirius, I'm hungry."

"Yeah, just a minute." Sirius reapplied the warming charms to Harry and himself, then grabbed a few Mars bars from his bag. "I know it's not a proper meal, but it should work for now."

"I love chocolate," sighed Harry happily, tearing off the wrapper and taking a huge chunk out of the bar. "When are we going to start flying again?"

Sirius looked up through the trees, trying to locate exactly where the sun was. "Hmm. It looks like the sun should be setting in about three hours. We can take off then, and with any luck we should be in Rome by morning."

"What's a Rome?"

"It's a big city in Italy. Someone who may be able to help us lives there. So what are we going to do until we have to go?" he asked.

Harry looked up at him with wide green eyes. "Tell me a story? Something about my mum and dad?"

Sirius nodded. He could do that. He only hoped that he didn't break down crying in the middle of it. "All right. Well, one year, a few months before you were born…"

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><p>To be continued...<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A brief A/N: Wow, guys, I'm so honoured to see all of the alerts and favourites on this story! It's great to know that you're out there reading this story. In this chapter - enter Remus Lupin. Needless to say he's not exactly thrilled to see his old friend at the moment (give it time though, it gets better – especially since I know that chapter's already written).

My plan for tonight is to sit down and start writing the next chapter of this story (chapter nine, to be precise) – the first new chapter in *gulp* seven years…so leave me some encouragement in the reviews section! I know it's a cliché to the point of being a dead horse, but hearing from the readers really does help us write faster.

Thanks again for reading – Lola.

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

It was five a.m., and Sirius was guiding the motorbike along the ancient streets of the Trastevere. He was going slowly, one arm holding a sleeping Harry while he scanned the buildings for the right address.

"92…96…98, there we go." The bike came to a stop outside the door to the small apartment building. With his free hand (the one that wasn't clutching a robe-covered Harry to his side) he shrunk the bike down and stashed it in his pocket, ready for a fast escape if necessary. "You ready to do this, Harry?" he whispered to the boy. Harry didn't stir.

Sirius's eyes looked at the row of buzzers, spotting the name 'R. J. Lupin' on the one for the topmost apartment. "Here goes nothing." He pressed the bell.

It was precisely three minutes from the time he'd hit the buzzer to when the door opened to reveal a gobsmacked Remus Lupin. It was three seconds after that that Remus's wand was aimed right between his eyes and a deadly curse on his lips. "Give me one good reason, Black," he growled.

"Harry," Sirius managed to gasp, motioning with his head at the bundle in his arms.

Remus's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you going to kill both of us before you try and bring your wretch of a master back?"

"Don't be daft, Remus, I—"

"Don't be daft?" It was times like this, even though they were at new moon, the wolf was dangerously close to the surface in Remus, and with valid reason. "You killed James, Lily, and Peter, and left Harry an orphan. I'll have no problem using the killing curse on you right here, and I'm damned sure no one would question my story of self-defence."

"We switched secret keepers!" Sirius blurted out. He'd hoped to work up to this a little slower, but when your balls were about to be nailed to the wall you did whatever you had to do. "Everyone and their grandmother would figure I was going to be the secret keeper, so we switched and I was a decoy! Peter was the real secret keeper."

The wand wavered a bit, and dropped to somewhere near his mouth. "That's awfully convenient. Blaming it all on a dead man."

"Remus, can we please go inside to talk about this? It's almost sunrise and Harry's not as light as he seems. Look," Sirius fumbled in his pocket, pulled out his wand, and pushed it at Remus, "take my wand; I swear on James's grave that I won't do anything to you or Harry."

Remus didn't move for a moment, but finally took the offered wand. "All the way up the stairs, it's apartment 5. Go first, and I'll follow." Sirius nodded and walked inside, Remus close behind him. Without thinking Sirius made the trip up the flights of stairs, only stopping when he was in the small front room of Remus's flat. "Sit on the sofa," Remus ordered. He complied quickly, setting Harry down next to him. The boy sniffled and turned a bit, then settled back down to sleep. Remus pulled a kitchen chair forward, sitting directly opposite Sirius. "Okay. I'm going to ask all the questions, and you are going to answer me honestly. If you try anything, I have no problems with putting the Cruciatus on you." The wand was pointing directly at his heart this time, and Sirius knew he wouldn't hesitate to use it.

"Fair enough," Sirius nodded with a gulp.

"Prove to me you're really him. According to the Prophet your body washed up on the shores of northern Scotland, quite obviously drowned."

God, where could he begin? There was quite a lot. "You're Moony. You came up with the name for the Marauders Map. Your parents' names are Lovernios and Elizabeth. You have a scar on, uh, your upper thigh from when you bashed your leg on a table the first night we were in our flat. You have—"

"All right, enough," Remus cut him off. "If anything you've just proven that Black gave you some convincing information in the past. If you are really him, how did you fake the dead body?"

"It was a simulacrum, like we'd talked about back in 6th year. I made it and left it there for the Aurors to find."

"Why did you break out of Azkaban?"

"I had to save Harry. His relatives were mistreating him."

"And how did you know that?" There was clear scepticism in Remus's voice.

"I dreamed. I dreamed of James and he told me to go get Harry away from those god-awful people."

"Couldn't bear to see him with mudbloods, is that it?" Remus sneered.

"If the muggles were nicer Harry would have wanted to stay," Sirius said quietly. "He slept in a cupboard. Those sorry excuses for humans treated him like a bloody house elf. I doubt they've missed him."

"This was all from a dream you had? You, who failed Divination with startling accuracy?"

"This was different. I'd do anything to keep Harry safe."

"Does that include leading Voldemort to him and his parents? You wanted him dead!"

"No, I never wanted Harry or James and Lily dead. I was trying to save their lives." His voice took on a pleading tone. "I didn't know where they were. I told you, we switched secret keepers. Peter was the secret keeper and the spy."

"Like I said before, that's an awfully convenient excuse. There's no one here to contradict you," Remus said.

"But Peter isn't dead!" Sirius blurted out. "He cut off his own finger right before he blew up the street, then changed into Wormtail and scurried down the sewer with the rest of the vermin."

That brought Remus up short. Their being Animagi was a well-kept secret, something they had sworn to keep only between the four of them under pain of death. "All they found of little Peter was his finger, as the Azkaban guards were so fond of reminding me," Sirius continued. "And I'll let you in on a little secret: all of the Death Eaters clapped up in Azkaban are calling for Peter's head. They say the double crosser double crossed them."

Remus swallowed roughly. Sirius could see his brain starting to inject a little doubt into the situation. He was about to speak again when Harry stirred. "Sirius?" he mumbled. "Where're we?"

Sirius looked at Remus, silently asking him for permission to answer the boy. Remus nodded once. "We're at my friend's home. Remember? I told you about him earlier."

"Oh, okay." Harry stretched briefly and then sat up, the cloak falling in waves around his legs. "Hello," he said to Remus.

"Hello, Harry," Remus replied softly. Sirius imagined the resemblance to James was hitting Remus just as hard as it had him. "I'm going to ask him a few questions and then do a standard diagnostic." It wasn't a request, so he just nodded and sat back. "How has Mr Black been treating you so far?" Remus asked Harry.

The young boy grinned. "It's great! We went on a flying motorbike, and he gave me a Mars bar! I've never had a whole one all to myself before."

Remus's brow wrinkled. "Never had a candy bar to yourself?"

Harry sighed miserably. "Nope. Dudley always got the candy. Aunt Petunia said I was a freak and freaks shouldn't get candy."

Although Remus's face was carefully absent of any expression, Sirius could see the shock in his eyes, and knew exactly how he felt. How anyone could treat such a wonderful child with such disdain was painful to see. "How, um, how old are you now, Harry?" he continued.

"I'm five and a half. I'll be six in July."

"You're very well spoken for such a young boy," Remus said. "Did Mr Black tell you about magic?"

"Yup! That's how the motorbike flew, and why he was always carrying the stick in his hand."

"He mentioned spells as well, right?" Harry nodded. "Would it be all right if I cast one on you right now? I promise it won't hurt, but it may make your skin glow blue for a few moments."

"Okay." Remus leaned forward and held his wand over Harry's head and muttered a few unintelligible words under his breath. True to his word, an electric blue aura appeared around Harry for a few seconds, with some matching blue words appearing in front of the wand. When the glow faded, Remus turned to Sirius.

"Diagnostic results: one male human, age approximately five years, seven months, with no signs of Imperius or any other influential spells on him." Sirius just arched an eyebrow, silently telling him 'I told you so.' Remus didn't reply, just stood up and walked over to the tiny kitchenette. "Would anyone else like a cup of tea? I think we could all probably use one right about now." With a tap of his wand the water in the kettle began to boil. "Do you still prefer your tea black, Sirius?"

It was the first time Remus had used his first name, and it sent a little ball of warmth fluttering in his stomach. It was small, and nearly invisible, but it was there, and it felt good.

* * *

><p>"Sirius?" Remus asked when the tea was done and Harry was safe in the living room playing with a few conjured matchbox cars. "Do you know exactly why Dumbledore was so insistent about Harry staying with the Dursleys?"<p>

Sirius sat back in his chair and looked warily at Remus. "No. Should I?"

Remus sighed, and plucked at his wand. "Okay, if you're not who you say you are I have no problem at all Obliviating the hell out of you, because it is imperative that this stay quiet. Dumbledore made sure that Harry stayed at the Dursleys because of a blood protection Lily put on him right before she died. In essence, in order to keep Harry as safe as possible, he needs to dwell with someone of Lily's blood, and the only one still around is Petunia."

"All the protection in the world wouldn't make a difference though if he's unloved," Sirius said after a moment's thought.

"What d'you mean?"

He smiled sadly. "Harry and I had a chance to talk on the way here. He's really an intelligent little boy, it's amazing. But just hearing his stories, you can tell those sodding Dursleys didn't even like him, let alone love him. Every bit of their attention was on their own fat pig of a son, and Harry was knocked back down to the position of household freak. That can't be good for him. It'd make him grow up far worse."

Remus shook his head. "But is the chance really worth taking? He might not be the happiest of children, but there're many out there that aren't. And while he may not be happy, he'll at least be safe. Isn't that more important?"

Sirius's eyes grew hard. "Not when it's my godson. Besides, we're both fully trained wizards, we'd be able to protect him, raise him, and train him for when the time comes."

"Wait, wait, hold it just a minute," Remus broke in. "What's this 'we', Black?"

"Ummmm…"

"You just assumed, didn't you, that I'd drop the life I've got going here so I can go haring off God only knows where with you?" Remus arched his eyebrow, and sparks were beginning to spit from the end of his wand. Sirius jerked his chair back a few inches.

"Well, uh—"

"That's just your problem, you impulsive fool, you don't think! You always jump in feet first, wands blazing, and only stop to think about the consequences later. Is that what you did when you went over to Voldemort's side? Thought of all the power you could gain that way and—"

Sirius stood up so fast he sent the chair crashing to the floor. With rough, staccato movements he pulled off his jacket and yanked up the sleeve to his jumper to reveal a smooth, if slightly wasted looking, forearm. "Look. Look, dammit! Not a trace of that bloody mark in sight. Even if Voldemort was gone for good, which I sincerely doubt, you could still see the damn mark there."

Remus leaned in close, nose coming to within a few inches of his skin. Finally his eyes looked up to lock onto Sirius's. "This still doesn't mean that you're not an impulsive idiot."

"It's a fair cop," Sirius shrugged. "It's all for Harry though. I figured you'd want to help out for him."

He rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. "I…I have no idea. I need some time to think about this, can you accept that?" Sirius nodded. "Thank you." Remus bit his lip. "Let's see, we can't stay here, you'd be too noticeable." He looked up at Sirius, a glint in his eyes and an almost evil grin spreading across his lips. "I know. I've got family in Northern Italy, around Siena. We could stay there for a while in a bit of privacy. And if you do anything at all to make me really mad, one snap of my fingers and they'll rip your guts out with their bare hands."

Sirius gulped, but nodded. At least it was some sort of progress.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, feedback is loved (and helps me write faster...hint, hint...).

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<p>

Shacklebolt pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. He muttered a few words and the quill jumped to attention, an ink blot beginning to spread on the paper. "Aurors present: Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, interviewing," he looked up at Harry here, "Mr Nobody, 3:30 p.m. 20 June, 2000."

Auror Tonks pulled out a chair between Harry and Shacklebolt. "So, Mr Nobody, you said you've travelled quite a bit, even though you speak…well, somewhat like an Englishman. Where are you from originally?"

Oh, they were going to have to be far cleverer than that to get some decent answers out of him. They may have been nice, but Harry was intent on keeping as much information to himself as long as possible. Of course, the game would be over once Dumbledore arrived and pushed his heavy fringe aside to reveal the covered up scar that was the bloody bane of his existence, but until that time he would remain Mr Nobody from nowhere.

"If I'm nobody, how can I come from anywhere?" Harry asked.

Tonks leaned forward in her chair. "Well, if I remember my classics correctly, the first Mr Nobody was originally from Ithaca, and had a real name behind the alias. So I can therefore figure that with this Mr Nobody a name and history lurks somewhere beyond those sunglasses of his. Wanna give us a clue?"

"Not particularly."

Shacklebolt slammed his fist on the metal table, sending them all back a few inches in surprise. "Look, kid, we're never going to get anywhere with this if you don't tell us who you are. The sooner we can get this done the sooner you can be on your way leading your life."

Harry snorted in disbelief. Even if he confessed everything he'd still be stuck there a lot longer than he would have liked due to the sheer nature of what he'd done. He might as well have a little fun until that time. "I'm sorry, I just can't tell you that. Next question, please."

Shacklebolt's eye twitched dangerously.

* * *

><p>It wasn't the rain pattering on the window that woke Sirius up that morning. Rather, it was the insistent poking at his cheeks that did it. He opened bleary eyes to see a grinning Harry kneeling over him and his fingers pressed into his face. "You're awake!"<p>

"Barely," Sirius groaned. He looked at the clock, which read 9:15 a.m. Not a totally unreasonable hour, at least Harry had given him that long.

"Good. Breakfast has been ready forever, let's go eat." Sirius bit back the wince. He could never eat right after he'd woken up, and Azkaban had done even more damage to his appetite. But who was he to deny Harry his godfather's presence? He could at least nurse a tea.

They had been staying in a guest house on the outskirts of the family property. Remus said it was because that's where all guests stayed, but Sirius got the feeling that they were stuck all the way out there was because he still didn't trust Sirius not to harm his family. Not that Sirius would be stupid enough to harm a family that had more than one person in their midst that could easily hex him into tiny little bits… He bundled Harry up warmly and they walked the few minutes to the main house. A simple breakfast of pastries and fruit was set out on the kitchen table, with a steaming pot of coffee waiting for them on the stove. Someone with a good deal of foresight had set a kettle to boiling also, with a few tea bags on the counter as well.

As Harry busied himself with a sugar covered and immensely flaky and messy pastry, Sirius could hear Remus talking in a different room. He drifted closer to the arched doorway and peeked around the corner. Remus was speaking a rapid stream of Italian, a pained look on his face and his hand constantly running through his hair. Finally he lapsed back into English. "No…No, Lucia, it's done, I'm sorry…yeah, it's for the best…don't worry about the jumper. I won't be back to pick it up. Just give it to the Church or something. Yes…Arrivederci, Lucia." He hung up the phone and collapsed in the chair, both hands pulling at his hair now. After a few minutes of this, Sirius decided to announce his presence.

"Hey. I'm making up some tea, would you like some?"

Remus stood up with a sigh. "No, the tea here is shite. Just stick to the coffee, you'll be better off for it."

"I haven't had coffee in years. It'll probably wreck my stomach and I'll be in agony all day."

"Better than gruel, though."

"True." Sirius prepared himself a cup of the sub-standard tea as Remus poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Harry.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Remus asked him, smiling as the boy held up his book.

"Reading! Um, kind of. I can't understand these words, but the pictures are nice." A glance at the cover showed that the book was in Italian, but the brightly coloured pictures were universal.

"Well, if you'd like, I can read it to you in English later on."

"That'd be great."

"Good." Remus then turned back to Sirius, who was bent low over his cup of tea and inhaling the fragrant steam. "Sirius, I was thinking about where we could head next."

"You've got an idea?" This was good news to hear, as Sirius had come to admit that he hadn't planned as far in advance as he would have liked where they would travel next.

Remus pulled a few papers over from the other side of the table. One of them was a map, and he spread it between the two of them. "Here. Santiago, Spain. I've already got a lengthy trip planned there starting in a couple of months courtesy of a wizard affiliated seminary in Rome—"

Sirius raised his eyebrow at that one. "You planning on joining the priesthood? Giving up glamour for a life of celibacy?"

Remus didn't even spare him a glance. "You've got to be Catholic to do that. In any case, I've been contracted to do some research for them in Santiago. There's an apartment set up there already, plus living expenses. The way I'm thinking I can pass you off as my pet during travelling, and Harry could be my sister's kid. It'll be a tough stretch to manage the three of us on a small budget, but I think we can make it. From there we'll have a little more time to plan our next move, and figure out just how we're going to take care of Harry."

"Sounds like a plan," Sirius nodded. "Does Harry have enough similar features to pass for your sister's son?"

"Rosie's got black hair, just like my mum. That should be enough if anyone comes across us who hasn't seen Rosie in a while." He looked over at Harry, who was squinting at the picture book. "We may have to do something about his eyes, though."

* * *

><p>It was in April, two months after they had arrived in Santiago, that Albus Dumbledore requested an audience with Remus. "I can only imagine what it's about," he said to Sirius over dinner. "It's extremely rare that the headmaster of Hogwarts pays personal visits to his former students."<p>

"Yeah, but you weren't the average student for more than one reason. You're also a member of the Order, don't forget that," Sirius replied.

"Yes…" he said distractedly.

"You…you're not going to say anything about Harry and I, will you?" Sirius worried his lower lip with his teeth.

Remus looked up at him, then over to Harry who was occupying himself with a chicken leg. He didn't know quite what to say.

As per his instructions, Dumbledore met him at a little wine bar near to the Cathedral. The old man was sitting at an outdoor table, blending in fairly well with the muggles around them, his long snowy beard the only thing that looked a little out of place. It was one of those rare sunny days in early spring, and many people were taking advantage of it. The mass of the Cathedral of St. James loomed over the plaza, casting its gaze over the people gathering below.

"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore greeted him as he sat down at the table. "You're looking well. Would you like some wine? This is a particularly superb Rioja."

"Yes, thank you," Remus said. "How have you been, Headmaster?"

"Rather well, thank you. It's getting to be a busy time of year at Hogwarts, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are coming up soon as I'm sure you remember."

Remus nodded. "The seventh years must be going mental by now."

"To put it mildly. And yourself, Remus? How has your research project been going?" Albus asked.

"So far it's been incredibly interesting. It's fascinating to see how muggle symbolism is used in the wizarding world as part of their defences."

"Good, good." Albus sighed and smoothed down his beard. "Alas, I wish this was for purely social reasons. Have you heard about Sirius Black's death?"

"Yes. Good riddance, really." Remus shrugged. "We hadn't been getting along all that well before hand, and after he went to Azkaban…the world is better off without him." It was an opinion he was starting to revise in recent days, especially after seeing Sirius interact with Harry, but there was no way he was going to let Dumbledore know that.

"I'm sure you're not the only one out there to hold that belief," Albus said. "As much as it pains me to say it, having Voldemort's second in command out of the way is a relief to me in case the time comes for him to return."

Remus tilted his head just a little in question. "Do you think that Voldemort isn't gone for good?"

"As much as I wish for Voldemort to be fully destroyed and to never show his countenance on this plane of existence ever again, I do believe that we should be on our guard, because I think that there is a strong chance that he will try again."

Remus convulsively gulped at his wine. This was not what anyone wanted to hear, especially when one was aiding and abetting an escaped criminal who was once believed to be working for said Dark Lord. "What, um…what does this mean for Harry?" He watched carefully as Dumbledore's face, a mask of controlled emotions, twitched and slipped just slightly, but didn't crumble totally.

"Harry will be safe. His mother's protection on him will keep him safe from the likes of Voldemort and any rogue Death Eaters still out there. His aunt and uncle are taking fine care of him." As much as Remus subtly questioned him, nothing more was said about Harry.

* * *

><p>"Well? What did he say?" Sirius asked as soon as Remus walked back in the door.<p>

He shrugged. "Just the usual hi, how are you, did you hear that Sirius Black died when he tried to escape from Azkaban, and oh, yes, Harry's aunt and uncle are taking fine care of him."

Sirius gaped. "You've got to be kidding me."

Remus laughed humourlessly. "I wish I was."

"So, either Dumbledore doesn't know that Harry's missing yet, or is keeping his disappearance away from the likes of the public."

"Neither of which are good options. This is going to become extremely messy."

* * *

><p>TBC...<p> 


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